


You're My Ghost (You're My Home)

by smileformemylovely



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Louis, Drunk Sex, Ghosts, Harry Leaves, Louis/Others is v brief and not explicit, M/M, Top Harry, Uhm, Unsafe Sex, harry/female is v briefly mentioned, louis cries a lot, louis kisses a lot of guys and sleeps with one other petson, theres a lot of angst, wear condoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:58:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileformemylovely/pseuds/smileformemylovely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's been Louis' home. Now Louis is looking for a star in the ocean and talks to a ghost with green eyes and dimples. </p><p>Or Harry disappears and Louis can't move on. </p><p>'I miss the way you loved me and the way you felt like home. I miss you, Haz. Where'd you go?'</p><p>One-Shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Ghost (You're My Home)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by Ghost by Halsey.

'I miss you. I miss the way you smile with your big dimples. I miss the way you wake up at 530 and leave a warm spot in the bed. I miss the way I could roll over and breath you in. I miss the way we spent our movie nights, with your lips on mine. I miss the way we laughed over stupid shit. I miss the way you loved me and the way you felt like home. I miss you, Haz. Where'd you go?' 

Louis' thumb hovered over the send button. He stared at it, read the message he sent Harry, months ago. 

'Surprise!' 

He sent it three months ago and slipped his key in the door. 

Only Louis' key didn't fit anymore. His blood had run cold, and he tried again, and again. He called Harry, but it went straight to voicemail. Louis had been gone a week, spent time with his mum after his uni graduation. He had come back a day early, buzzing with a ring in his pocket. 

But the lady next door told him that Harry had left the day he had. A moving van had come and Harry had loaded everything and gone with out a word. 

'What the fuck, Harry. Where are you?' 

He sent that after finding the note on his bed in his flat. 

'Bye, Lou. I'll always love you.' 

None of his friends had known where'd he'd gone. They didn't even know he had left. Niall said Harry told him he was going to spend the week with his mum, too. 

Louis had called Anne, but she wouldn't tell him anything. Not even when he broke down and begged. She whispered that she was sorry and hung up. Louis threw his phone across the room and screamed because Harry had disappeared and no one could tell him anything. 

'Haz, please just call me. Just let me know you're alive.' 

Louis visited the bakery Harry had worked in, but the manager told him that Harry had turned his two weeks notice. Two weeks before he left. 

Louis went to bed for a week after that.

'Please, Harry, please, something, anything.' 

Harry was Louis' other half, his one. Harry was promises that smelled of smoke and sweat whispered across sex soaked skin. Harry was the tattoos dripping with meaning no one could understand. Harry was lazy days spent on his couch, laughing at reruns and kisses that felt like home. 

Harry was his home, and he was Harry's. And Louis felt like he drowning now. They had been inseparable since they found each other in the bathroom the first day of uni, and now he was searching for a star in the ocean.

Liam brought him tea that went undrunk and sandwiches that he left on the desk. Zayn let him cry on his shoulder when his calls went unanswered. Niall checked in on him, made sure he was breathing. 

Louis wondered how he was breathing, when his source of oxygen was gone. 

'Harry, just answer one of my calls.' 

Zayn got a text message from Harry. 

'Tell him I'm sorry. But please, I can't hear from him anymore.' 

Louis felt his heart break then. Harry didn't want to hear from him. He grew angry and got out of bed and gathered all the gifts Harry had gotten him, all the pictures they had taken. Louis put them in a bag and shoved them under his bed. Then he went downstairs and Zayn and Liam were gone and he ate until his stomach hurt and drank half a bottle of whiskey. 

'Fuck you, Styles. Fuck you for leaving. Fuck you for being home. Fuck you for making me love you. You don't want to hear from me? Fine. Fine, you fucking coward. This is it. Fuck you.' 

Louis painted on a smile then. He got out of bed, joined society. He started his job, a music teacher for primary school. 

He didn't call or send Harry any messages. It felt weird, because when a small child insisted on playing the biggest drum and couldn't even lift it, Louis just wanted to text Harry. When Liam and Zayn dragged him down to movie night, Harry's absence from his arms was obvious. When he woke up alone, Louis checked his phone for a 'good morning, love!' message. Then he would remember and his heart would break a little more. 

Three months after, on Niall's birthday, Louis pulled on the clubbing outfit he hadn't worn since he and Harry went to London Pride's celebration. He went with the boys to a club and did five shots of tequila, each drink a letter of Harry's name, and danced with a tall brunet who smiled a little like someone he used to know. They went into the bathroom and Louis sat on the sink and wrapped his legs around the boy and kissed him with all he could. He was distracted for the time the nameless boy's lips were on his, and his crotch being ground into Louis' ripped skinny jeans. Louis came out with pink lips and the taste of regret on his mouth. He washed it away with something green, and the boy went to dance with some other poor soul. 

Zayn and Liam pulled him away from his third something green, and they all clambered into a taxi, Louis in between Niall and Liam. They went to Zayn's and Louis' and Liam and Zayn went upstairs attached at the lips and hands under shirts and Niall passed out on the couch. 

Louis went to his room and peeled off his clothes, collapsed on his bed and wrote a message to Harry, led on by tequila and something green. 

'I miss you. I miss the way you smile with your big dimples. I miss the way you wake up at 530 and leave a warm spot in the bed. I miss the way I could roll over and breath you in. I miss the way we spent our movie nights, with your lips on mine. I miss the way we laughed over stupid shit. I miss the way you loved me and the way you felt like home. I miss you, Haz. Where'd you go?'

He sent it with the help of liquid courage and stared at his phone, pleading. 

The three dots pop up and Louis made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like a question: Hazza?

'I'm sorry. I miss you. I miss you more then anything. But I can't, Louis. Please.' 

Louis typed and sent a message before the drunk mirage went away and Harry was back to being a ghost that haunted him in the bottle of a shot glass. 

'I kissed a boy today. He looked like you. His lips felt wrong. You've ruined me, Harry. Why?' 

Louis wanted to know why. Why now? Why answer his messages now? But for the first time his heart felt a little more whole. 

'Louis, please. I'm so sorry. I can't.' 

Louis stared at his phone. The tequila and something green made him warm and brave. Much like Harry did. 

'Can't? Can't what? I need to know why you left.' 

It took five minutes for Harry to type and the dots came and went.

'Forget me. Please.' 

Louis shook his head and whispered-screamed. 

'Don't you see? I can't forget you. You're everywhere, Harry. You're fucking haunting me. I can't forget you anymore then you can forget me. You're my one, Harry. My home.' 

Louis waited only a minute then. 

'I've already forgotten you.'

Louis felt his soul grow cold and shatter. 

'You're a liar. Did I mean that little to you? I gave you everything, my everything. How can you forget that? How can you forget me, Harry? What happened?' 

If he was a little less drunk and in love he wouldn't have said anything. 

'I've forgotten. I've moved on. Move on.' 

Louis didn't feel the tear on his cheekbone, he told himself. He was done crying over Harry. 

'I can't. You're a liar and a coward. You couldn't even break up with me to my face. You just left. You left, and you didn't care that I broke and I can't move on, Harry, because you're so apart of me moving on would be like cutting out my heart. But I'm glad you've moved on. I can't, because of you. I hope you wake up everyday realizing you broke me. I'm glad I meant nothing to you. I'm glad that our relationship meant that little to you. I was gonna propose. I'm glad you left before I could. I can't move on because of you, but you can so that shows just how much you cared about me.' 

Louis put his phone on his chest and covered his eyes with his arm and didn't think about Harry. 

'I'm sorry. I couldn't break up with you to your face because then I couldn't leave. I couldn't move on. I had to do it this way. I didn't mean to break you. I just needed to leave.' 

Louis read the message ten times. 

'Whatever. Fuck you.' 

Then he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow case and didn't cry. 

Louis went downstairs in the morning, hangover heavy and eyes empty of tears and headed straight for the toilet. Zayn sat next to him and brushed his hair back as he vomited the conversation between him and Harry into the basin. Louis leaned on Zayn and told him a short snapshot of what happened. Then he drank a glass of water and popped an ibuprofen and tossed and turned the weekend away. His arms searched for a ghost as he slept. He found it. It stayed where it was. It had Harry's eyes and Harry's dimples. 

Louis got out of bed on Monday and repainted a smile on and went to work. He did this everyday, and on Fridays and Saturdays, went out to clubs and bars and got drunk enough that he didn't mind that the boys he kissed in dirty bathrooms and grimy alleyways didn't taste like home. He'd go back to his house alone though. His bed was only big enough for him and the ghost of dimples and grass green eyes. 

Six months after Harry left, Louis came to the house drunk on tequila some blond had traded him for a blow job. It was late and cold and Louis hadn't been able to drink away tonight's regret. 

There was a boy with curly hair that had grown out since the last time Louis had run his hands through it sitting on his stoop. He had stood up when he saw Louis and smiled awkwardly at him. Louis brushed past him. His warm shoulder hit Louis and that's how Louis knew he was real, and not something his drunk mind had conjured. 

The voice that was so engrained in Louis soul said his name. Louis didn't answer, just went inside and slammed the door. He yelled out for Zayn, who came running downstairs in only boxers. Louis blinked at him and told him there was trash outside that needed to be taken care of and went upstairs as Zayn opened the door. 

Louis sat on the top step and listened to Zayn talk to Harry. Zayn was angry and Harry was soft and Louis leaned his head on the wall and ached. 

"What the hell, Harry." 

Harry was barely loud enough for Louis to hear. "I know." 

"We don't hear from you for six months, six! Do you know what you did to me? And Niall? And Liam? And Louis!" 

Louis closed his eyes. The room started spinning. 

"I had, too, Zayn." 

Harry's voice was muffled as Zayn had pulled him into a hug. 

"We were so worried about you." 

Louis didn't understand what Harry said, but he heard the door close and footsteps walk across the foyer into the living room. Harry looked up at him, but didn't say anything, just met his eyes and blinked. 

You're not welcome here, Louis thought. Get out. 

Harry looked down like he heard him and followed Zayn into the living room. Louis crept down the stairs,like a child when his parents had an argument. He sat on the step and listened. 

"What happened, Harry?" 

Louis brushed his hair out of his eyes. 

"I needed to get out of here. I couldn't do it anymore." 

Do what? Louis wondered. 

Zayn echoed his thoughts. 

"It. I couldn't be here. I felt like my throat was closing and I couldn't breathe." 

"Because of Louis? Because of work? What?" 

Louis' breath catches and Harry sighs. 

"It...yes. I felt like I was suffocating. It was too much." 

"So you just left? Without say anything? Why didn't you talk to someone?." 

"I couldn't talk to Louis. He was the one suffocating me. He was always there, loving and caring and being perfect. And what could I say to you with out sounding like a dick?"

Louis blinked and shook his head. He left because of Louis? What happened to talking? They used to talk about their problems. 

"How has he been?" Harry asked. 

There was a pause and Zayn sighed. 

"He's a zombie. He goes to work, he comes home, and goes to bed. Friday and Saturday, he goes out drinking at these sketchy places and doesn't come home until...well now. You saw him. He isn't himself. He stinks of a different cologne every time and I haven't seen him, really seen him, since Niall's birthday. Except for tonight. He isn't okay, he isn't living." 

Louis crossed his arms over his knees and put his head on them. It was true. He wasn't living, he was surviving on sleep and tequila and kisses from strangers. 

Harry was silent. 

"I'm worried for him, Harry. He's really fucked up." 

"I didn't...I needed to leave, I didn't mean to hurt him. I told him to move on. I told him I forgot him and I hoped he would've too." 

"Why'd you come back?" 

"Because I didn't. I didn't move on. I didn't forget him. I love him. And I realized I couldn't breathe without his suffocation. He's my oxygen." 

Louis couldn't listen anymore. He stood up and ran upstairs. 

"Louis!" Zayn called. "Was he listening this whole time?" 

"Yes." Harry was matter of fact sure. 

Louis got to his door and shut it and locked it. He sat at the bottom and told Zayn to fuck off when he knocked. 

He was silent five minutes later when there was a knock on the door, and a deep voice called out his name. Louis leaned his head on the door and closed his eyes as he left.

He went to bed then, dressed in his boxers and a thin t shirt. 

Louis woke up after dreaming the same dream he's had for six months. He chased someone, long and lean, who disappeared behind trees and dipped into streams. Every time he caught up with them, they disappeared in his fingertips. It didn't take a psychiatrist to figure the dream out. 

Only tonight, when Louis wrapped his hand around the arm of the long, lean someone, they turned and wrapped their body around him and then Louis would be somewhere else, still chasing the smiling someone, breath catching in his throat. 

He stayed in bed curled around his ghost, watching the rain on his windows. It was the kind of day that makes Louis want to curl up with tea and a book. He went downstairs around noon. Harry was there, sitting on his couch, half watching the stairs. 

Louis breezed past him with out a word, just went into the kitchen and made some tea. Harry followed him in, and leaned his ass on the table. Louis raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Zayn and Liam...they went out." 

Louis went into the fridge and pretended he didn't hear him. 

"Louis... We... We should talk." 

Louis came up with a slice of pizza two days old. He grabbed his tea and scooted around Harry on his way upstairs. He turned around when he got to the staircase.

"You're about six months too late with that, Styles." Then he stomped upstairs and slammed his door. He was a petulant child, he knew. But he didn't care. 

Zayn and Liam came home around six. Louis smelled when they started cooking the chicken they had brought home. He heard their muffled voices. He showered, changed into his most see through shirt and tightest jeans, quiffed his hair, put on a little eyeliner. He headed down and saw Liam and Niall and Zayn on the couch. Harry sat with them, talking about Niall's new girlfriend, like he never left. He gave them a mild look and grabbed his keys and wallet. Niall asked where's he's going. 

"Out." He stared at Harry when he said it. Harry couldn't look at him. 

"You should eat first." Liam moved to get up. 

"I'm not hungry." Then Louis started for the door. Zayn trailed after him. 

"Louis..." 

Louis glares at him. "I'm not going to stay here and act like he didn't leave. I'm not going to pretend. I'm going out. Is he going to be here tonight?"

Zayn gives him a sad look. "Louis, he doesn't have any other place. I think...you need talk to him..." 

"No. Anything he'll say he should've said six months ago. And you...you might be able to forget these past six months, but I refuse to. I'll see you later." 

Then Louis leaves and goes to the club he and Harry liked. He accepted a shot of tequila from with raven hair and sharp dark eyes and they danced. They drank some more, and Louis asked his name. He's never asked before. 

"Harry," the man smirked out and Louis figured it was destiny. Louis leaned into his ear and asks if he wants to go back to his place. They fell into the cab, other-Harry slipping his hands down his pants to grab his ass. They got to Louis' house and other-Harry threw some cash at the cabbie while Louis unlocked the door. Harry came up while Louis threw his keys and wallet on the side table.

"Louis... Can we please talk?" He was in the clothes he was wore last night and looked tired. Louis shook his head. Other-Harry came in and started kissing Louis' neck. The pain in Harry's eyes makes Louis' chest feel weird. He dragged other-Harry upstairs, not looking at Harry. 

Louis quickly undressed and other-Harry kissed down his body. Louis pulled him on his bed and made sure to scream and moan loudly when other-Harry fucked him into the mattress, Louis on his elbows and knees. It felt wrong and was over quickly. Louis was thankful for that. Other-Harry fell asleep with his arm around Louis and Louis stared at the door all night. He didn't know what he was waiting for. 

He got out of bed around seven and shook other-Harry awake. 

"I got work. You need to leave." Louis' voice was tired. The other-Harry stretched and found his clothes. He got dressed quickly, calling a cab while zipping his pants and Louis watched him. Louis pulled on a pair of boxers and a t shirt and led other-Harry downstairs. He gave Louis a business card and a wink when he said they should do this again. Other-Harry called him Luke and Louis nodded. Other-Harry kissed him on the cheek when the cab honked and left. When Louis went into the living room, Harry was awake. Louis ignored him and sat on the other end of the couch and turned on the news. 

Zayn came downstairs between a cooking segment and an interview with some pop star. Harry was watching Louis out of the corner of his eye, and Louis was pointedly watching the blonde, smiley celebrity. Zayn grabbed Louis' arm. 

"Help me with breakfast, won't you?" 

Louis follows Zayn into the kitchen and sits in the counter. Zayn leans next to him. 

"This ruse would work if I cooked, Zayn. Are you going to yell at me?" 

Zayn stares at him. "Was that really necessary last night?" 

Louis shrugs, like he doesn't know why Zayn means. "I brought someone home. I'm sorry, did I disturb you?" 

"Was that really necessary to parade him in front of Harry? What was that going to prove? You need to talk to him, Louis, not bring men around to punish him." 

"Why? What could he say to me? I'm moving on, Zayn. He's the one who left me. Who disappeared without a word. He told me to move on. So I am." 

Zayn gives him a hard look. "Are you?" 

Louis raises his chin. "Yes. And even if I'm not, even if I did it to punish him, that's allowed. He left me. He. Left. Me. Why do you keep acting like you forgot? Did something hit you on the head and wipe your memory?" 

"Louis, I was here the whole time for you. He hurt you, and you're mad. He's still my friend, Louis. I'm sorry if that upsets you. But you need to talk to him. You're not moving on, Louis. You could try to tell yourself that, but you're not. What was his name?" 

Louis leant back and crossed his ankles. "It doesn't matter." 

Zayn raised an eyebrow. 

Louis rolled his eyes. "His name was Harry. But that's a common name. The prince's name is Harry." 

"That's not a coincidence. You've never brought anyone home until Harry showed up and wow! They share the same name. You're not over him, Louis." 

"And talking? That's going to help? What's he going to say, Louis, I'm sorry you suffocated me, so I left you without a word for six months? I'm sorry I broke your heart, but you were just too good of a boyfriend for me? Hmm, what's that going to do? Make me take him back?" Louis jumped to his feet. "I have nothing to say to him, and I don't care to listen to his blithering. I'm moving on." 

"You aren't! You aren't moving on, Louis!" Zayn shouted, fed up. "This isn't you moving on. Just fucking listen to him! Just try, Louis!" 

"Why are you taking his side? He LEFT me, Zayn. He's the reason I didn't get out of bed for a week. He's the reason I go out and drink! Because it helps to forget him! I'm not talking to him, so just drop it. Stop treating me like a child, Zayn. Harry and I are grown ups. He made the grown up decision to leave and I made the grown up decision to bring a guy home. And you know what? He can camp on our couch for an eternity and nothing, nothing could make me listen to him! This isn't some fucking rom-com where he shows up and fixes my heart with a dozen roses and an inspired speech! Life doesn't work like that!" 

Louis turns towards the living room. "You hurt me, Harry! You can't fix it like this! Life doesn't work like that, so stop! Just leave, just fucking leave again, move on! Remember that? Remember how you told me you moved on. Well, this is me moving on!" Louis didn't realize he was crying until a sob erupted from his chest and he fell to his knees. "Just leave again. Just do it before I forget you left." Zayn got on his knees, and wrapped an arm around Louis' shoulders. 

Harry appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, a ghost like apparition. He looks at Louis, crystals falling down his face, and Louis saw that Harry has tears in his eyes, too. He sat in front of Louis and grabbed his wrists.

"I'm not leaving again, Louis. I promise, I won't leave. No matter what you say, what you do, I'm not leaving. Please, just listen to me, just let me say what I need to say." 

Louis' shoulders heaved and he shook his head. "Just leave. I don't want to listen. I don't..." 

"Don't say you don't care. You do. Please, love, please." 

Louis shook his head and pulled away from the other boys and ran upstairs. He slammed his door and locked it and curled up in the corner and closed his eyes and pretended it six months ago. Louis ignored when someone bangs on his door. He stared at the ghost on his bed. 

"Haven't I moved on?" Louis asked it. "I haven't, have I? Otherwise you wouldn't be here." Louis banged his head on the wall. "I could never move on." 

Louis heard the deep voice tell Zayn to go downstairs. Then his door jimmied and opened. Harry walked in with a mug in his hand and shut it behind him. 

"Still remember how to open my door?" Louis laughed without humor. Harry was good at that. 

Harry grinned. "Still remember a lot of things." 

Louis stares at him. "Apparently, you don't remember to call me. Or text me. Or let me you were alive." 

Harry's grin disappeared and he dropped to a knee and held out the mug. "Still remember how you like your tea." 

Louis looked at the mug. It was the purple mug with a black mustache on it that Harry had given Louis when he had given him the key to his apartment, an eon ago. Louis wondered if Harry did that on purpose. He accepted the tea and Harry sat cross legged in front of him. Louis stared at the tea in his lap. 

"Louis..."

Louis bit his lip and shook his head. "I thought I told you to leave." 

"I know, Louis. Just...we should really talk." 

Louis took a shuddering breath and looked up. "Fine. Talk. I don't know what you think you could possibly say that makes this alright but whatever. Say what you need to, then get out. I'm serious." 

Harry swallowed a breath and opened his mouth. "I'm sorry." 

Louis looked at him and smiled bitterly and shook his head. "You're sorry. You're fucking sorry? Great. I don't forgive you. Go on." 

"It was too much. So I left. I ran." 

"You didn't run. Running would imply a week at your mums, and a note that says something other then good bye. You left. You left, disappeared without a trace. I knew nothing. I called your mother and she wouldn't tell me anything. I didn't know if you were even alive until you texted Zayn." 

Harry looks solemn as Louis talks at him. "I left. And...and I went to my mums for a couple weeks. Then I went to Scotland. I worked at a cafe and thought about you and walked among farms. You were there. You're everywhere." 

Louis sipped at his tea and nodded. Harry continued. 

"I met someone." 

Louis blows air through his nose and started laughing bitterly. 

"She..." 

"She? She! Oh, I get it." 

"No, Louis, it's not like that. When you texted me, telling me you missed me, she was there. She told me after she was breaking up with me because...because she was in love with her ex. She told me she knew I was too." 

"So your girlfriend left you, and you needed someone else. Why me? Why come back to me? To hurt me more?" 

"No, Lou, she was right. I was...I'm still in love with you. I can't forget you. I can't move on. You're my home." 

Louis leaned in and set his jaw. "Then why'd it take you three months to come back." 

"I couldn't, Lou. I told myself I didn't need you. I lied to myself, said that you moved on, too. I missed you. But Lou, I couldn't breathe here. When I said you're everywhere, it was especially true here. You were in my house, you were with me everyday, or...or you were just there. You had become a part of me, only I didn't realize it. I didn't realize that I needed you until the day I left Scotland."

"I suffocated you. You don't have to worry about that. Not anymore." 

Harry blinked. "I'd take suffocating over missing you everyday." 

Louis looked up at his ceiling, then darted his eyes down. "Is that all?" 

"I had some big, inspired speech I was going to tell you the night I came to your doorstep. But you..." 

"Have no interest in that." 

Harry stands up. Zayn's clothes cut an interesting figure on him. Louis sipped his tea before getting to his knees and opening the bottom drawer of his dresser. Harry's clothes stared at him. He hadn't opened this drawer in six months and he smelled Harry's cologne on them. 

"I have some of your clothes here. If you want." Louis didn't ask where Harry's clothes were. Probably still in Scotland, stinking of sheep and espresso. 

Harry looked a little shocked. Louis got up and sat on the bed. His ghost sat next to him.

"Thank you. Niall's going to take me back to my hotel so I can get my things. I should go back to Scotland to arrange..."

"I don't care, Harry." Then Louis stretched out on the bed. 

Go back to Scotland, he thought. Never come back. 

"Right." Harry sounded a little sad and stood with shirts and jeans clutched to his chest. "I'm going to... Yeah." 

Harry walked to the door slowly, like he was waiting for Louis to call him back. The ghost nudged Louis and Louis rolled his eyes. Harry opened the door when Louis said something softly. 

"I sleep with your ghost every night."

Harry turned back, a questioning look in his eyes. 

Louis cocked his head. "I've never brought anyone here. Until last night. Because...because your ghost is here. And there's not enough space."

Harry nodded, like he understood. Louis raised his eyes until he met Harry's. 

"I just...I thought you should know." 

Harry nodded some more. "I understand." 

Louis stared at him. "Do you?"

Louis turned to face the wall. He heard the door close and screwed his eyes shut. His bed smelled wrong, so he got up and stripped his sheets and pillowcases before crawling back and faced the wall again. He thought. He thought long and hard and came to the conclusion that he hated himself. He wished it was six months ago. He wished he would fall asleep and never wake up. 

He carried his sheets down around five. Harry's gone from the couch and Zayn and Liam have taken over. Zayn smiled at him with pity in his eyes and Louis darted to the washing machine and started the cycle. 

Life, Louis decided, would be so much easier if there was a washing machine to take out what was dirty. 

Louis went to the kitchen and made tea before heading to the living room and sitting next to Liam. 

"He didn't leave again." Zayn looks at him. "He went to his hotel. He'll be back. He offered to make dinner." 

"I thought he didn't have any place to stay." 

"I'm not going to make him stay in a hotel when we have a perfectly good couch because you insist on acting like a child. "

"Okay. Whatever." Louis didn't care. 

Liam nudged him. "Did you talk?" 

"What is everyone's obsession with me and Harry talking? He talked. I listened. It didn't help. Are you happy?" 

Louis turned back to the tv and ignored the looks Liam and Zayn shared. 

Half an hour later, Harry and Niall came in. Louis didn't look up. Niall helped carry in Harry's bag and Harry carried in grocery bags. Zayn asked if they needed help and Harry shooed him down. 

Harry went into the kitchen and Louis followed him to put his tea mug away and switch his laundry. Harry started pulling out groceries and putting them away. Louis watched him as he moved fluidly around the kitchen. They hadn't changed anything since he left. 

"What are you cooking?" Louis tried to keep his voice even. 

Harry glanced at him and grinned. "Chicken and mash." 

Chicken and mash. The first dish he had cooked for Louis, in the tiny dorm kitchen. They ate on paper plates in the room Harry shared with Niall, then kissed until Louis' lips hurt. 

It was the night Louis first fell in love with Harry. 

He wondered if Harry's making this dish on purpose. 

"Great." 

Then Louis left before he could say anything else. 

Their dining room had never been big enough for five, and was usually dedicated to Zayn's art supplies and the upright piano Louis had found at a garage sale and brought home on the old owners truck. He loved that piano. 

He hadn't touched it since the night Anne didn't talk to him.

So they usually ate in the living room, Liam and Zayn tangled together and Louis and Harry pressed against each other and Niall on the puffy chair that was a gift from Zayn's mother's basement. Tonight, Louis pushed a chair in and ate off his crossed legs silently and everything tastes like cardboard. 

Louis woke up the next morning with chills and headache. He went to school and put on a movie for the kids and his head on the desk and waited until lunch. He skipped eating, his stomach queasy and slept under his desk until the next group of kids came in. 

Louis didn't remember driving after school, exhaustion settling in bones. But when he got to the house, he fell face forward on the couch and shivered as he drowsed. Louis felt someone shake him and he turned his head and then his stomach protested. Louis clapped a hand to his mouth and rolled off the couch and ran to the bathroom. His sweaty clothes stuck to him as he emptied his stomach into the basin. He leaned his head on the side and closed his eyes. Someone came in and put his hand on his forehead and Louis mumbled and tried to pull away from the cold hand.

"Oh, Louis. You're burning up." 

It sounded like his ghost. His ghost slipped away for a moment and came back with a wet rag and glass of water. He flushed the toilet and wiped Louis' mouth. Louis sat back against the sink and his ghost knelt next to him and held the glass to his lips. 

"Just a sip, Lou. Just get the taste out of your mouth." 

Louis sipped and closed his eyes and mumbled something. 

"I know you aren't real. But you feel nice." 

His ghost brushed his wet fringe out of his eyes and Louis leaned into the touch. 

"Let's get you upstairs, yeah?" 

Louis shuddered at the thought of stairs. 

"Help me to the couch, I can't walk upstairs." 

His ghost leaned down and put his arms under Louis and picked him up. Louis put his arms around his neck and his face in his shoulder because the fabric was warm. 

"I got you, Louis." 

Louis heard the door slam and the sound sent a knife into his brain and he let out a pained sound. 

"Hey, it's okay. I'm going to get you to bed, yeah? Change into some comfy clothes. You're okay." His ghost had a nice voice.

"What happened? Is he drunk?" This voice wasn't as nice as his ghost's, but it sounded familiar.

"Not drunk. Dying." Louis groaned.

Louis felt a hand on his neck, cold and tickling. He pulled away from it. "He's burning up." 

"I haven't gotten a temperature, but he just vomited. I found him face down on the couch. I'm going to put him to bed." 

"Do you think he would be okay with that?" 

There was a pause, and then his ghost sounded sullen. "You're right. He can't walk though. You wanna take him? I'll go to the market, call his work. Stay with him?" 

Suddenly there was more hands on Louis and he pulled away from them. He got in closer to the warm fabric and shook his head. 

"You smell like Harry." 

His ghost paused and then someone says questioningly. 

"He doesn't recognize you?"

Louis was shifted in his ghost's arms. 

"No, he...thinks I'm a ghost. It's a long story. I'll take him. He can be mad at me when he's better." 

"I'll go to the store. Get some aspirin, see if he can keep it down." 

"Thanks." And then his ghost was moving and Louis' laid in something soft. "I'm going take off these clothes, okay? Get you something comfy." 

Louis threw his hands over his eyes. "Head. Hurts. Light." Then there's movement and the light's off. Everything hurt actually. His whole body ached and his stomach hurt and his head felt like a stone. 

"Can you sit up, love?" Louis tried, tried for his ghost, and eventually leaned on the wall behind him. He started to feel hot and when his ghost put his cool hands on his shirt and undid it, he left a trail of ice on Louis' belly that felt good. "Sit foward a bit, let me take this off, yeah?" 

The soaked shirt was pulled off of him and Louis fell onto the cool sheets. The cool hands undid his belt buckle and trousers before asking him to lift his butt. Louis was left in pants and his fevered skin felt good on the cotton. 

"You still cold? Want to wear some sweats?" 

Louis shook his head. His ghost pulled up his sheet. 

"I'm going to get a rag, okay? A cool rag will feel nice." 

Then his ghost was gone and Louis drifted off. He was still asleep when Harry put a cool rag on his neck and crept out of the room. 

Louis woke up freezing and alone. He put out his hand and felt blindly for his comforter. Then he grabbed the icicle on his neck and threw it to the floor. 

Where was his ghost? Louis wondered as he pulled the comforter over his head. His stomach started hurting again and he moaned in pain. 

"Hey, where'd you go?" Someone pulls the comforter away and he shivered as the cool air brushed his skin. "You cold?" 

Louis shook his head. "Gonna vomit." 

There was a hand in his hair immediately and it shoved him towards the end of the bed where a bucket was held up. Louis deposited what little was in his stomach in it and fell back into bed. His comforter was pulled up around him. He shivered despite the fabric. The hand is his hair petted him softly for a minute, before someone asked.

"You need anything, Lou?"

Louis nodded. "Need to call work."

"Zayn called them for you. Said you'd be out the rest of the week. Can I take your temperature, love?"

There was something metallic at his lips and Louis opened his mouth. It slid in and beeped. 

"39.4. We should try to get some aspirin in you, but I don't think you could keep it down now, so we'll wait, yeah? I'll let you get some sleep." 

"Wait." Louis didn't want his ghost to go. "Stay?"

His bed shifts as someone sits down and Louis scooted over, or at least tried to. His body ached in protest and felt heavy. A finger stroked his face and it felt cold.

"I'm not going anywhere." 

Louis fell asleep quickly and fever dreamed. Harry stood at the end of his bed and smirked. Louis would try to grab him and he would disappear leaving Louis to tumble head over heels down a dark chasm and then land on his bed again. It grew bigger, the chasm, until one time, he was just falling, scrabbling to grab a wall where there was none. Harry stood at the top, watching him grow smaller and smaller. 

Louis opened his eyes and there was someone asleep on on the pillow next to him. Louis felt hot and kicked off the comforter, disturbing his guest. 

"Hey, you're awake. You feeling better?" A cool hand felt his forehead and Harry frowned. 

What is Harry doing in my bed? Where's my ghost? Louis wondered. 

"You still have a fever. Think you can stomach an aspirin and some water?" His voice sounded sleepy and caring. Louis blinked at him. 

"Yeah, I'll try." His voice was weak. Harry grabbed a bottle on the night stand and a glass and held a pill to Louis' mouth. Louis swallowed it with some of the water from the glass held to his lips. 

"Let me get you another rag, okay? I'll be right back." 

Harry came back from the bathroom and put a wet rag on Louis' forehead and slipped one around his neck. They felt cool and Louis closed his eyes. 

"I'm going to go downstairs. If you need anything, holler, yeah? I'll leave the door open." 

"Okay." 

Harry half smiled at him and slipped out. Louis fell asleep again and dreamed of black skies. 

Louis woke up again freezing. He reached out for his blanket but couldn't find it, so he curled in on himself. His stomach ached and his head felt like a brick hit it. Everything hurt. He shivered and that made his body scream. Louis whimpered, his face pressed to the pillow. He shivered like that for an eternity. 

He heard footsteps and then someone came into his room. 

"You okay, Louis?" 

Zayn's voice hurt his head. 

"Cold. Head hurts. Everything hurts." 

His comforter was smoothed onto him and Zayn sat on the bed. 

"You kicked your blanket onto the floor. Want some more aspirin? Harry said you could take some." 

"Yes." 

Zayn helped him swallow the medicine and sip some water. 

"Your stomach hurt? I'll bring up something fizzy." 

Louis nodded. "Can you help me sit up?" 

Zayn lifted Louis up against the wall, and tugged the comforter up to follow. 

"You're a really needy sick person." 

Louis would've glared but he didn't have the energy. 

"What time is it?" 

"Eightish. You slept the day away, Aurora." 

"Fuck off, Aladdin." 

Zayn laughed and grabbed the rags from where Louis had pulled then off when he woke up. "You want some soup or something?" 

Louis' stomach rolled at the thought. "Just some ginger ale." 

Zayn left and came back with a glass. "Drink slowly now." 

Louis took a mouthful and put it down. 

"Thanks." 

"No problem. You'd do the same if you were me." 

"Yeah." 

"Want to go back to sleep?" 

Louis shook his head. "Need to stay awake." 

"Okay." 

Louis twisted his hands beneath the fabric. "Did I say anything stupid last night? I remember coming home and being carried upstairs, but that's all." 

Zayn patted his knee. "Don't think about that." 

"So I did." 

Zayn sighed. "You called Harry a ghost." 

Louis nodded. "I thought as much." 

"He's been taking real good care of you, Louis." 

"I know." 

Zayn looked at him. "Are you..." 

"I'm going to sleep now." Then Louis rolled over and closed his eyes. Zayn left and Louis fell asleep. He dreamed of a field and being chased. He woke up to Harry feeling his forehead. 

"Hi. You feeling better?" 

Louis' head hurt a little less and he wasn't freezing, but he wasn't burning up. He nodded. 

"Good. Your fevers gone down a bit. Are you hungry?" 

Louis shook his head. "Could I have some water though?" 

Harry held out a glass and Louis accepted it. He drank it and handed it back. Harry stood up. 

"Want a shower, Lou? It'll make you feel better, and I can change these sheets, and you can put on something other then boxers, yeah?" 

"Okay. Sure. Can you, can you help me up though?"

Harry leaned down and Louis gripped his shoulder and put most of his weight on him as he got to shaky feet. Harry reached over and pulled out an pair of sweats and shirt and wrapped an arm around Louis' waist. They walked over to Louis' bathroom and Harry started the shower. Louis stood in the running water, leaning on the wall and feeling the phantom of Harry's arm around his waist.

Louis got of the shower, using the sink as leverage and sat on the toilet to change. He started feeling cold when he got out and was thankful for the pants. He exited to his room and Harry was putting a new sheet on his bed and Louis stumbled into them. 

"You want some soup? You haven't eaten in a couple days." 

Louis shook under the new quilt. "Can I have some tea? I'm freezing." 

"How about some cold ginger ale? You're still feverish, I don't want to give you something warm." 

"I'm freezing, Harry." His eyes begged. 

"It won't be warm." 

"Okay." 

Harry came back with a mug of lukewarm tea and some toast. "At least try the toast? It might help your stomach." 

Louis ate and drank lightly and pushed away three of the triangles and the mostly empty tea mug. 

"You want to sleep again?

Louis looked at Harry, studied his profile as he picked up the plate. 

"Why are you doing this?" 

"If I left you in the hands of Zayn and Liam, you might be dead." Harry quirked his lips at Louis. Louis doesn't smile back. 

"I'm serious, Harry. After all, all I said, and you said, and what's happened." 

Harry bent over and brushed a hand down Louis' cheek and rested it on his shoulder, his thumb stroking Louis' clammy neck. Louis moved his head towards Harry's hand almost unconsciously. 

Almost. 

"I care about you. I know I'm the world's biggest asshole, and I don't deserve you, hell I'm surprised I was even allowed in this house, but Louis, I mean it, when I say I care about you. I..." 

'I love you' hung between them. 

Louis looked up at Harry's intense gaze. Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to Louis' forehead. Louis closed his eyes. He felt Harry brush his thumb along his jaw. 

"You're home, Lou." 

A hand brushed through his hair and Louis' breath caught a little. He just wanted to pull Harry down by his stupid shirt and kiss him like mad. He wanted to push Harry down into bed and wrap around him like a starfish and not leave. 

But then the six months of loneliness hit him. The six months of nothing, of drinking away his pain and the absence of Harry from these memories. He thought of the girlfriend Harry had. Of Scotland. Of the 'move on.' Of the 'I already forgot you'. 

So Louis doesn't. He let Harry walk out. He let himself lay on his side and he let himself ask his ghost what he should do.

The ghost doesn't answer. 

Louis let himself cry a little, too. Small tears on his cheekbones, small catches in his throat. Then his head started aching again, and his stomach rolled and he leant over the side of the bed and threw up the toast and the tears. Liam came in and held his head. Louis flopped back onto his bed, and shut his eyes. Liam sat by him until Harry put a cold washcloth on his mouth and wiped it. Someone held a glass to his mouth and he took a tiny drop and cleaned out the taste of six months. 

"Thanks." Then Louis rolled over again, his back to Harry. He starts shivering violently, and suddenly there's someone pulling back his quilt and a solid arm around his waist and they're warm. There's a warm chest to his back and warm lips in his hair and Louis definitely does not press back against him. 

"Sleep, Lou. I'll be here." 

"Will you?" 

"I promise." 

It was weird because Louis is usually the one who wraps himself around Harry, cradles his head on Harry's chest and his arms bracketing his waist. 

"If I push you off in my sleep, I'm sorry." 

"It's okay. Go to sleep, won't you?" 

So Louis does. And when he wakes up, he's not cold anymore but he's on top of Harry, his head cradled in his chest and his arms bracketing his waist. Harry's awake too, staring at the ceiling and running a hand down Louis' back. Louis shifted a little. Harry looked down at him and Louis was reminded of the time the heater broke in Harry's house and they slept under three blankets and wrapped in hoodies. 

"You're awake." 

"Good observation, Haz...Harry." 

Harry brought a hand up and rested it on Louis' forehead. "Your fevers gone." 

"Good." 

"Sorry about...you know, this. You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you. I can go." 

Louis took a deep breath and shook his head. "No, you're, we're good." 

"We are?" 

Louis studied Harry's eyes. "Like this. Mostly because I don't want to move. We're good like this."

"Right. Yeah." Then Harry quirked his lips and Louis followed his expression. Louis rested his chin on Harry's sternum and Harry ran his hand up and down Louis' back. They both watched each other. It was quiet and intimate and Louis felt like he should push away but he was comfortable and Harry was warm and made Louis feel a little bit whole. Louis darted his eyes down to Harry's lips and Harry's tongue peeked out to lick at his bottom lip. Louis swallowed. 

"What day is it?" 

"Friday. You've slept this entire week gone. Zayn called your work, let them know you were sick." 

"I should thank him. And, uhm, you. Thank you, for taking care of me this week. You didn't have to." 

"I know. I wanted to. Well, not wanted for you..." 

"I get it. Thank you." 

Louis bent his head a little and rested his face on Harry's chest. Harry's free hand came up and rested on Louis' hair, his other hand still trailing up and down Louis' back. 

"I missed this." 

Louis mumbles into Harry's shirt. "I missed this, too." 

"Lou, I'm so sorry for..."

"Stop. Just...not right now. Just shut up and hold me." 

"Okay." Louis missed Harry's small smile, but Harry felt Louis' against his chest. 

They stayed like that, matching breaths until Louis has to pee. Harry brought him up some soup and they talked about topical things, like one of Harry's regulars in Scotland, a big burly man who drank espresso with a pinky out and had a tiny dog who yipped at Harry when he petted him.

Harry sighed when Louis finished eating and grabbed his hand. Louis furrowed his brow. 

"I'm going back to Scotland. Next weekend." 

Louis pulled his hand away and looked up at his ceiling. He knew this was to good to be true. 

"I just have to pack up some stuff and say goodbye to some people." 

"Oh." 

"I'll be back. I promise." That sounded a lot like 'I love you'. 

"Okay." 'I love you, too.' 

They spent the next week doing some kind of awkward dance around each other, Louis watching Harry and Harry watching Louis. Louis went back to work, and came home and sat next to Harry and told him about little Roberta who sings with lisp. Zayn and Liam watched them watch each other and saw a few too many accidental touches that were no accident. Louis would brush his hand on Harry's or grab his shoulder when he walked behind him, and Harry had made a habit of grabbing Louis around the waist when he stood next to him and reached for something. It seemed to happen quite often. 

(Harry had also made a habit of sneaking into Louis' bed at night.) (Louis didn't mind.) 

Friday, the day before Harry left, was Liam and Zayn's anniversary and Harry and Louis were left alone. Harry made pasta and Louis' favorite chocolate mousse and they ate on the couch facing each other, crossed legs touching and Louis laughing at Harry's lame jokes. They ate dessert out of the same bowl and Louis felt warm inside, his foot plying with Harry's. 

Harry cleared the plates and bowl and came back and sat next to Louis. Louis had turned and faced forward, his feet leaning on the table and flicked through one of his sport magazines. Harry leaned in and kissed his temple. 

"I love you." 

Louis turned towards Harry and looked at him, then glanced down at Harry's knee. Harry leaned in and pressed a kiss at the end of Louis' eyebrow. 

"I love the way your eyes crinkle when you're happy." A kiss to his cheek bone.

"I love the way you sing in the shower." Harry put his hand in Louis' hair and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. 

"I love the way your body fits with mine when we lay together." Louis reached out and put his hands on Harry's hips and closed his eyes. 

"I love the way you wake up in the morning, all sleepy and soft and grumpy." Harry pressed his lips to the hollow in front of his ears. Louis forgot how to breathe. 

"I love the way you wear your emotions in your eyes." He kissed Louis' jaw and Louis moved his head so his lips were in front of Harry's. 

"I love the way you're caring and loving and especially I love the way you're home." Harry dragged his hand down to cup Louis' face and pressed his lips to Louis, strong, and soft, and perfect. 

"I'm in love with you, Lou, and all your little things." And then Louis nudged his nose to Harry's and they were kissing, really kissing and Louis tasted home and sweet and he forgot Harry left for a moment and let Harry lick into his mouth and bite at his bottom lip. Louis pulled back to breathe and Harry chased his lips and they were kissing again. 

Louis breathed across Harry's lips. "I love you." Harry pulled back this time and rested his forehead on Louis' and they breathed in each other's scent, each other's oxygen, eyes closed, Harry's hand on Louis' face. 

"I'm so sorry, Louis." 

Louis leaned up and pressed his lips to the corner of Harry's mouth. Harry turned his face and captured Louis' lips and they kissed, intimate and soft. 

"I need you, Harry." 

Harry looked into Louis' half lidded eyes and studied him for a moment, before leaning I and kissing Louis, biting softly at his lower lip and stroking his cheek. 

"Okay."

And so Louis wrapped his legs around Harry and Harry carried them upstairs and laid Louis on the bed. They undressed each other and Louis never left Harry's mouth. He laid back and Harry made love to him, slowly and sweetly and their bodies aligned perfectly and they just basked in each other. Louis tangled his fingers in Harry's curls and Harry left a thumbprint of a bruise on Louis' hip and the other hand supported him by Louis' head. They were quiet in each other's company, a soft 'there' or 'keep going' or 'are you okay' or 'I love you.'

They whispered that a lot. 

When they were done and sweaty and Harry had rolled onto his back after falling on top of Louis briefly and kissing him on his jaw, Louis wrapped himself around Harry. His ghost had been watching in the corner and winked at Louis and walked out the door. Louis watched it and smiled into Harry's neck. 

They fell asleep and Louis didn't dream for the first time in six months. 

They woke up lazily. Harry's train wasn't until late afternoon so Louis drew patterns on Harry's skin, traced the moth tattoo and Harry held him and life felt right. 

"I don't forgive you." 

Harry nuzzled Louis' hair. 

"I don't forgive you and I'm not going to forget. I love you, I love you so much, Harry. I want this. I want to work this out. But I can't. We need to start talking about things. If I...I start being too much, tell me. I can't...you can't leave again." 

"Okay."

"I won't be able to handle it. This is a relationship, and you need to be here, and talk." 

Harry ran his hand down Louis' side and Louis looked at him. Harry was smiling and he kissed Louis' forehead. 

"I'm not leaving. Not again. I'll stay with you until we're dead." 

Louis chuckled a little. "Promise?" 

"Promise." 

And when Harry came back from Scotland, three days later, Louis was waiting for him, smiling and threw his arms around him, and Harry held him in the entryway. They were both buzzing, with rings in their pockets

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my other works! Leave a comment if you want! xxx
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at smileformemylovely.tumblr.com x


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